Me, Myself & I

Alone I sit again with my inner thoughts & wonder what it all means. Is there a point to this, does the effort I put in pay off in the end? A sense of melancholy washes over my day-to-day activities, my routine becoming all too familiar - everyday a shitty rerun of the last. The older I get the harder lessons are to learn, the less joy I get out of the smaller things. Maybe I'm just desensitized to the world around me, maybe I need to pop a happy pill like every second person. Isn't it absolutely terrifying the kind of deep suffering the happiest looking people are able to hide within themselves. I am left to continuously think, ponder, mull over and contemplate life with no off switch - I am stuck in my own head...